


Right until the ends of the Earth

by nastally



Series: Dawn of Aquarius Multiverse [5]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: 1975, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blowjobs, Edging, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Piano Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sort Of, but also all the feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 21:41:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21345121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nastally/pseuds/nastally
Summary: A good morning.
Relationships: Freddie Mercury/Roger Taylor
Series: Dawn of Aquarius Multiverse [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2030740
Comments: 55
Kudos: 94
Collections: Froger!Week 2019





	Right until the ends of the Earth

**Author's Note:**

> So, let me explain. I had no intention of writing this until someone requested the 'cockwarming' prompt and I had to go and Google what that was, ahaha. But once I Googled it, I was intrigued, and honestly, I think I ended up with edging instead but either way... I now _love_ this. Oh, the 'multiple orgasms' prompt also made its way in here.
> 
> Also, it appears I am utterly incapable of writing smut if it isn't at least 5000 words of it. lol
> 
> So anyway, yes, this WAS absolutely set in the _Dawn of Aquarius_ universe. In 1975. Before I decided there wasn't going to be a sequel, so now it's just one of the possible continuations of DoA. Again, no need to have read it. But if it feels like there's a whole lot of story behind this little scene, that's because there is.
> 
> Also also, let's pretend for a moment that "You Take My Breath Away" wasn't written for David Minns. ;)

\- - -

It was a good morning. 

And that was saying something, because Freddie wasn't usually a morning person. But as he swept into the living room in his favourite kimono and not much else, humming a tune, the sunlight falling in through the window was golden and the scent of the bouquet of freesias on the coffee table like a spring breeze. He draped himself across the sofa, sipping his cup of Earl Grey which had never tasted more delicious, and soon found himself with a warm, purring lapful of cat. 

Half an hour in, and this day was already _perfect_. Lounging idly and petting Jerry's soft fur, Freddie smiled to himself as he dwelled on the night before and the evening which had preceded it. The memories alone sent a pleasant shiver down his spine and filled his chest with a warmth that engulfed him whole. 

He had long finished his tea by the time Jerry decided to stretch and jump off his lap. Freddie brushed cat hair off his kimono, rose from the sofa and wandered over to the piano. Running his fingers over the keys lightly, he sat down on the piano stool and began to play. It was a new melody, one that had been floating around his head for a little while, and this morning, it had begun to take shape. As he experimented with it and went over it again and again in variations, the words came, too. More than the one line, the one thought, which had inspired the melody in the first place, and which he had already all but chosen for a title. Freddie half mouthed, half whispered the odd line under his breath until eventually, he paused. 

"Oh, I like that," he murmured, "that's quite lovely." 

He rose to his feet briefly to reach for his notebook and pencil atop the piano and sat back down, jotting down a few lines before he deposited the notebook on the floor and tried again. 

"_Every time you make a move, you destroy my mind..._" he sang softly, brows furrowed and eyes focused on his fingers, gliding over the keys. "_And the way you touch, I lose control and shiver... deep inside..._"

Despite his concentration, the movement in his peripheral vision did not escape him. Nor did the faint creak of a floorboard. Freddie paused, breaking into a smile, and sang the next line almost as a way of greeting.

"_You take my breath away..._"

He fell silent, but continued to play, still smiling and biting his lower lip a little as he felt the other man come up behind him. Fingertips ghosted across the back of his neck and sank into his hair, tenderly massaging his scalp. It felt divine. So much so that his playing slowed right down. He hummed contentedly, leaning his head back into the touch, and his fingers stilled. 

"Did I wake you?" Freddie asked, eyes falling shut. 

The hand left his hair and dropped down to his shoulder. Roger pressed a kiss to the top of his head. 

"No," he murmured, sliding his hand across Freddie's chest, inside his kimono. "Keep playing. It's beautiful." 

"It's a work in progress," Freddie smiled, but obliged anyway. 

Roger leaned his cheek against the top of his head, fingers lazily stroking his chest hair. Until eventually, they almost casually honed in on a nipple.

"You're distracting me, dearie," Freddie grinned, not really complaining. 

"I'm sorry," Roger whispered against his hair, not sounding sorry at all. "Keeping my hands off you... is simply... not an option." 

Freddie shivered, biting his lower lip, the melody was lost as Roger flicked his now erect nipple and rolled it between his fingers. When he moved on to the other nipple to give it the same treatment, a breathy moan escaped Freddie's lips. Tom wandered by, rubbing against his ankle. 

"Shall we go back upstairs?" Freddie proposed, unashamedly eager. They were on borrowed time, after all. 

Roger hummed, resting his chin atop Freddie's head for a moment. Still absently but ever so expertly teasing his nipple.

"No," he said quietly, leaning down to his ear. "Stay right here." 

With that, he pulled away. Freddie cast a glance over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow as his gaze trailed over messy, dark blond hair, skinny shoulders and narrow hips, barely holding up the borrowed red satin pyjama bottoms. Roger disappeared through the doorway and Freddie turned back to the piano, shaking his head with a fond smile. 

Such a pretty boy. Not really his type, he was coming to realise. Roger was a far cry from the broad-shouldered, Burt Reynolds-esque men who usually caught Freddie's eye on first glance.

But that was just the thing. He knew very well that by virtue of biology alone, he was in no way similar to Roger's _usual_ conquests, either. 

They were and always had been each other's exceptions to the rule. 

Intrigued as to what his best friend and lover had in mind, Freddie resumed playing, picking up a leisurely version of _Lazing On A Sunday Afternoon_. 

Roger returned not much later, and Freddie very deliberately kept playing, feigning nonchalance, even as he felt him walk up behind him. Even though all the while, he was already a little short of breath from anticipation. Especially when, standing right behind him, Roger didn't touch him but instead very casually leaned over and placed the tube of Vaseline at the side of the piano. Freddie glanced at it, tingling excitement spreading through the pit of his stomach. 

"Oh là là," he said lightly, now no longer playing anything in particular, just improvising. "Getting adventurous, are we?"

Roger collected Freddie's hair in a pony tail and twisted it to one side, leaning down to kiss the nape of his neck. 

"If you're not too sore..." he murmured softly, his breath tickling Freddie's skin and raising goosebumps all over his body. 

Freddie shifted on the piano stool, his fingers coming to a halt in G minor.

"I'm all yours, darling," he replied, leaning his head to the side, exposing his neck, inviting Roger's lips to caress it. 

It worked. Roger kissed his way up the side of his neck, sending wonderful shivers down his spine. 

"Stand up," he whispered, lips brushing his ear, and released his hold on Freddie's hair. As Freddie rose to his feet, Roger stepped over the stool, leaning into him, sliding his arms around him from behind. With a sigh, Freddie dropped his head back against his lover's shoulder and turned his head, lips parted, melting into a kiss. It was a bit of a challenge, kissing at this angle, so they broke the kiss but stayed close, breathing against each other's lips, the tips of their noses touching. Roger's hands travelled all over his body, fingers brushing exposed patches of skin where they found them. 

"Hah," the blond drummer breathed, a small smirk on his lips as his fingers traced the outline of Freddie's cock through soft silk. Freddie gave a breathy, naughty chuckle. He wasn't wearing anything under the kimono. Roger's hands moved to his hips, pulling up the silky material slowly until it was all bunched up in his hands, exposing Freddie's arse. He pushed the kimono all to one side, holding it there, while his other hand caressed the newly exposed skin, from the dip at the end of Freddie's spine down to the tops of his thighs. Running his fingers over his arse lightly and then again raking his fingernails over soft skin. Freddie instinctively leaned forward, holding on to the top of the piano, one leg bent at the knee. He pushed his arse back against the hand caressing him and into Roger's hard dick, pressed up against him through a thin satin barrier. 

"Christ, Fred. You're just begging to be fucked," Roger rasped, fingers kneading one of his buttocks. 

"Do you want me to beg?" Freddie asked saucily, biting his lower lip. 

Roger's hand slid across his hip to his front, beneath the kimono. Calloused fingers wrapped around him and gave him a few firm tugs, making him moan. 

"Oh, you'll beg," Roger promised, and Freddie knew the other man could feel his cock give a twitch in his hand. "But not yet." 

Freddie wanted to retort something witty, but genuinely couldn't, already far too eager and willing to give himself over wholly and follow Roger's lead. Especially if it lead to him getting fucked into a delirious stupor, and by god, he hoped it would.

Roger was rocking his hips against him, stroking Freddie's cock slowly. His other hand had once again found a nipple, pinching it just hard enough to make Freddie's nerve endings sing with the mixture of pleasure and pain.  
Freddie was just starting to get into a rhythm, thrusting into Roger's hand, when the younger man suddenly released him. 

An embarrassingly needy whimper escaped Freddie's lips, but he wasn't going to complain when he saw Roger reach for the Vaseline. 'Oh yes, please...' 

The cats had settled down on the couch and were half asleep, half watching them with mild disinterest. Naughty things.

Freddie's eyes fell shut when Roger's slick fingers pressed against him and one immediately slipped inside. As a matter of fact, he _was_ a little tender after last night, but rather than a deterrent, it was a turn on. Probably because it brought back fresh, vivid memories which Freddie already knew would have to feed his imagination for some time. Roger inside him, so deep, pinning him down with his weight, their hands clasped together. 

_'Missed you- missed you so much, fuck-'_

_'Me too, darling, me too... ah! Don't stop, please don't stop-'_

_God..._

"Fuck, you're hot," Roger murmured breathlessly, pumping his finger in and out of him. "I could literally do you all day, I hope you know that."

"I hope that's a promise," Freddie purred, and fervently wished today would never end. 

After a few moments, Roger pulled his hand away and moved the stool back a little, lowering himself down onto it. 

Freddie smiled when he felt warm lips caress his buttocks and breathed a quiet 'ahh', trembling with anticipation. It was followed by a low moan when Roger's tongue found him. Circling and lapping at his sensitive entrance, the tip of it pushing inside just a little, teasing him so mercilessly. Lovingly tormenting him. 

"Oh darling... oh, I love you..." The head of his cock was rubbing up against the silky material of his kimono, leaving wet marks. Freddie wished Roger would touch him again, or just fuck him already. Preferably both. 

Instead, he gave him a last, unbearably slow lick before the heat of his tongue was replaced by two fingers, pushing inside him in one smooth thrust. 

"Ohgod, _ohgod_..." Freddie whined when Roger angled his fingers just so and curled them a little, twisting them deeper and dragging them right over that sweet spot. Again and again. One of Freddie's hands slipped off the top of the piano and crashed onto the keyboard, producing a loud, dissonant chord that startled the cats. Roger chuckled, like the smug bastard he was, and didn't so much as pause his efforts to drive him absolutely wild. Lifting his hand off the keys, panting through parted lips, Freddie fumbled with his kimono and got a hold of his leaking cock, setting a fast pace. _'Ohfuckyes...'_

However, that earned him the immediate loss of Roger's fingers inside him and a stinging slap on the arse. 

"Nuh-uh, hands off." 

Freddie whined in frustration and released his painfully hard cock, a smirk on his flushed face nonetheless. Last night had been desperate, intense and emotional. But this morning, the mood was playful. Roger dragged his lips over what Freddie was pretty sure had to be a handprint on his right buttock, hot breath tickling his prickling skin. 

"Please," Freddie whispered hoarsely. 

"Patience," Roger murmured, and Freddie could hear the smirk in his voice when he added in a half whisper: "What you _can_ do... is suck me wet before I fuck you."

Freddie turned and dropped to his knees so fast the kimono billowed around him. Their eyes met as he pulled down the pyjama bottoms he had lent Roger for the night. The blond man's eyes were brimming with lust and adoration.  
Humming appreciatively as he took in the sight of his cock up close, Freddie wet his lips and watched it give a little twitch under his gaze. He was putting on a bit of a show, of course. But not much, if he was honest. Roger's cock was as beautiful as the rest of him, or so Freddie had always thought. God, he knew it so well he could have probably drawn it from memory. He wrapped his fingers around the base and licked his way up to the tip before he closed his lips around it.  
Roger moaned, head rolling to one shoulder. One of his hands combed through Freddie's hair, brushing loose strands out of his face. 

"Yeah... fuck, yeah..." 

Freddie hollowed his cheeks out around him and flicked his tongue against the head every time he came up, setting a pace just a notch above painfully slow.

"Ahh, just like that..." Roger moaned, watching him through his lashes. "Yeah... ah... _fuck_, Freddie... love watching you do this," he swallowed and moaned with a shudder, "makes me wanna come in your mouth..." 

Glancing up at him, Freddie gave a low hum and took him deep. A strained sound escaped Roger's lips, hips jerking up to meet his mouth. 

"Okay," he panted, "ahh, Jesus, fuck... That's enough. Come here..."

His hand left Freddie's hair and tightened around his arm, helping him up. As Freddie got to his feet, Roger reached for the Vaseline again. 

"Allow me," Freddie uttered in a low whisper, taking it out of his hands. 

"Be my guest," Roger raised his eyes up to him, sucking on his lower lip as he watched him squirt a little into the palm of his hand and lean down, spreading it over his cock. Their eyes met. Roger's hand cupped the back of Freddie's neck and he pulled him into a messy kiss. As soon as Freddie pulled away and straightened up, Roger turned him around to face the piano. Lifting layers of silk fabric aside with one hand, Roger brought the stool a bit closer again and gently pulled him into his lap. Bracing himself on the edge of the piano, Freddie carefully lowered himself down, Roger's hand on his hip, guiding him onto his cock. Slowly taking all of it until he was sitting on his lap, one leg on either side of Roger's. They were both breathing heavily, overwhelmed with the pleasure and intimacy of the moment. Freddie felt his body relax into the stretch, not given a choice but to accept it. Words could not express how much he loved the visceral delight of this moment, more so with Roger than anyone else. Because with anyone else, it was raw sensuality, and being wanted and desired and that was wonderful. But with Roger, it was _being one_, it was complete surrender and losing himself, and it was bliss. 

Roger wrapped an arm around his waist, holding him in place, and rolled his hips just a little, making them both whimper. And then, he stilled, pressing a few leisurely kisses to Freddie's shoulder, where the kimono had slipped off. Freddie wanted to move so much, wanted Roger to move, wanted to be touched, wanted _something_, but Roger's firm grip around his waist held him in place.

He was in no way prepared for what Roger said next. 

"Play me something."

"Whu... what?" Freddie stammered, not quite believing his ears. 

"You heard me." 

Even though his own voice was breathless and uneven, Roger sounded mischievous. Positively devilish. And as he understood just what kind of game he was playing, Freddie wanted to laugh, except it came out as a breathy mixture between a chuckle and a moan. 

"You're _evil_," he whined, helplessly wiggling on his lap a little, which really didn't help. It just made him want to move more, more desperately. 

"Come on, Mercury," Roger rasped into the nook of his neck, fingers sliding up to pinch one of his nipples. 

"Fuck," Freddie breathed, placing his fingers on the keys. For a second he considered asking Roger what he would have him play, because his mind in its current state was drawing a blank, but chances were that son of a bitch was going to come out with something ridiculously difficult, so he decided not to risk it. Finally, he settled on a slowish version of _Killer Queen_. It was easy to play, and anyway, he could play it with his eyes closed.  
But that didn't stop him from hitting a whole bunch of wrong notes when Roger's hand moved on to his other nipple, rolling it between his fingers. Freddie made a weak, desperate noise and corrected his mistakes before he carried on playing through sheer virtue of muscle memory. Because his entire focus was on those teasing fingers, toying with him so mercilessly, and the feeling of Roger's cock inside him. He made a tiny attempt to move which was immediately thwarted, Roger's arm returning to his waist, holding him tight. Freddie fumbled the notes again, this time out of sheer frustration. 

"Please, Roggie..." He tried sweetly, not particularly trying to play the piano anymore. Freddie guessed this was where the begging came in. He was more than happy to oblige. "Please, darling..." 

Roger shifted a little, still holding him in place, and reached around with his other hand, lifting aside the material that covered Freddie's crotch. '_Yesyesyesss_,' Freddie thought, looking down at himself, fingers resting on the keys, willing Roger to put his hand on him. To his dismay, all he did was run his fingertips up the underside of Freddie's painfully hard cock. It twitched against his fingers and Freddie whimpered quietly, feeling his muscles contract around Roger's dick. 

"Ah! Shit, Freddie-" 

Roger's hips bucked a little, his hold on him tightening while his fingers ghosted over the tip of Freddie's cock, spreading precum on their way back down. 

"So hard not to fuck you right now." Roger murmured against his shoulder.

"Then fuck me," Freddie breathed, eyes falling shut. He dropped his head back with a groan, utterly unable to think about anything but Roger's cock and how much he wanted to bounce himself up and down on it and how amazing it would feel. 

"Roggie, please... I can't stand it," His hips moved in small circles of their own accord, using all of the limited wiggle room he had. It felt so _intense_ he barely knew what to do with himself. "Ah, fuck... please, _please_..." 

"You wanna ride my dick?" 

"God, yes, please." 

In a moment of utter, overwhelming need, Freddie forgot all about the fact that he'd been forbidden from touching himself and wrapped a hand around his cock, stifling a moan as he began to stroke it. 

"Oi. What'd I say?" There was amusement in Roger's voice. 

Freddie bit his lip, suppressing a grin as he jerked his hand away. "Shit, sorry."

"You're about to be." Roger said, playfulness in his tone even as he attempted to sound stern. "Go on, play. You didn't even get to the end, did you?"

_Fuckfuckfuck._

"No," Freddie replied in a pitiful whimper, realising that his pleas had fallen on deaf ears. 

"You know what? Just, ah..." Roger's laboured breathing gave him away. Freddie had to admire his dedication when he was clearly just as desperate. "take it from the top." 

Freddie wasn't sure if he wanted to cry or laugh. 

But at the same time, it was as if something released deep inside him. Perhaps it was the last bit of control he had been clinging on to. He stopped trying to get his way and gave himself over completely. To the sweet torture of his predicament and to his lover's will. There was something uniquely exhilarating about letting go like this. His stomach was full of butterflies, he was so turned on it hurt, he let the sheer emotional and physical intensity of it all wash over him and happily drowned in it. Freddie blinked and placed his trembling fingers back on the keyboard, panting through parted lips as he began to play. His fingers kept slipping, Roger's lips on his neck, his hand idly untying the kimono he was still wearing. 

"We should record a song like this sometime," he murmured softly, "Can you imagine?" 

Freddie gave a soft giggle that turned into a sigh. "I love you."

"Love you, too." Roger's breath tickled his shoulder, his hands stroking Freddie's thighs. 

"_Gunpowder, gelatine... dynamite with a laser beam_," the younger man half whispered, half sang into his ear in time with the piano, his voice raspy and uneven, sending chills down Freddie's spine. 

"_Guaranteed to blow your mind... Anytime..._," Freddie continued breathily, "_Recommended at the price... insatiable an appetite-_ ah!" Roger's fingers closed around Freddie's cock, slowly stroking the head. 

"_Whu...nna trahh..._ ohgo-_hod_, please, ple-ee-_ease_-" Freddie sobbed, eyes falling shut as his fingers slid off the keyboard, nails digging into the palms of his hands. 

"Jesus, Freddie," Roger breathed, pulling his hand away and grabbing on to Freddie's hips. "Sofa. Now." 

"Yes!" Freddie exclaimed, twisting his torso around and brushing their lips together, one hand in Roger's hair. Sweeter words had never been spoken. Roger rolled his hips, thrusting up into him, drawing a loud moan from both of them. Another key smash broke the peaceful morning silence as Freddie leaned on the piano, pulling himself up.

The kimono fell to the floor along with Roger's pyjama bottoms as they stumbled to the sofa, tongues all but down each other's throats and teeth almost clashing. Eyes dark as night, Freddie pushed Roger down onto the sofa. Tom, who had been curled up on one of the armrests, made a swift escape. Roger's fingers dug into his hips when he climbed into his lap, one leg on either side. He was looking up at him with an awe and hunger that Freddie could not get enough of, could never get enough of, still, after all these years. Then he lowered his eyes, quickly reaching down to steady his cock, watching their bodies join back together as Freddie lowered himself down. 

"Oh Jesus, fuck..." Roger's head dropped back, eyes falling shut for a moment. 

Freddie rocked himself into a comfortable position and moaned when he pulled himself up and came back down on Roger's cock. Slowly at first, but soon just about as fast as he could, jaw slack and eyes squeezed shut, head lolling from side to side. 

"Oh my- nghhgod, yeah! Yeah! Oh fuck, oh god, oh _god_-" 

Roger matched his rhythm, bucking his hips up against him. After all the build-up, the intensity was mind-blowing. 

"Touch yourself," Roger breathed between moans of pleasure, perhaps realising Freddie was waiting for his permission, which wasn't actually the case. It was just that fucking himself on Roger's dick right now felt so wonderful, keeping him right there at the edge of ecstasy, that Freddie had lost himself in the act completely. Catching Roger's eye, a small smirk on his lips, Freddie wrapped a hand around his cock, setting a fast pace, and very nearly screamed with how amazing it felt. He was close immediately, and yet it seemed like it was taking ages to reach the tipping point. The hot, coiling ache inside him just kept building, begging for release. His legs were trembling and he barely even registered the sounds coming over his own lips anymore. 

"Gonna cooome..." It was a desperate, drawn out whine between moans of pleasure. "Oh fuck! _Ohfuckohfuck_!" 

It was quite possible that he did, in fact, scream when sheer unbearable bliss tore through his body in tempestuous waves, leaving him floating in a realm of euphoria that could not be of this earth. 

"Oh god, oh my _god_..." His voice sounded distant, not quite like his own, even as he opened his eyes again to the sight of the mess he had made on Roger's stomach. Roger, who had a dazed grin on his face that could only be described as exceedingly smug as he lifted a hand to his cheek and pulled him into a kiss, all lips and tongue and tenderness. 

Freddie sighed against his lips, feeling his body clench around him with the aftershocks. Roger moaned weakly, fingers tightening in Freddie's hair. 

"You're not done, lovvie..."

"I'm not done with _you_," Roger murmured against his lips, and put his hands on Freddie's hips, lifting him off his lap with very minimal help from Freddie. His entire body felt boneless, and he happily collapsed sideways onto the couch. Roger leaned forward and picked the pyjama bottoms up off the floor, wiping himself down with them. 

"You can fuck me some more," Freddie told him with a coquettish smile, shifting onto his back, head on the armrest of the sofa and one hand draped up above his head. "You can fuck me as long as you like, darling," he uttered in a half-whisper, biting one of his finger nails. "I love your cock..." 

Roger tossed the pyjama bottoms aside and looked at him with a smile, desire in his eyes. He pulled one leg up onto the sofa beneath him and turned to face him, even as Freddie let one of his feet slide down to the floor and lifted the other up on the backrest, shamelessly spreading his legs before him. Roger's eyes travelled the length of his body while he leaned down, placing a few kisses around Freddie's belly-button, making him squirm. 

"I love all of you..." 

Roger's breath tickled his skin, such genuine warmth in his voice that Freddie felt a pang of emotion in his chest. His fingers threaded into Roger's hair while the younger man moved lower. 

"Darling..." Freddie started, wondering what Roger was doing, when he was cut off by the hot, overwhelming sensation of the other man's mouth around his still half-hard dick. Freddie shivered and gave a whimper, toes curling into the carpet. "What... oh, ohh..."

It was _too much_ after he'd just come, but still _so good_, Freddie didn't know at first if he wanted to tell him to stop or beg him to continue. But as Roger slowly sucked him hard again, he found himself doing the latter between whimpers and words of approval. It was a dizzying _painpleasure_, spreading all the way into his core, and then, Roger's fingers brushed over his hole and easily slipped inside. Freddie gasped and shuddered all over when the younger man angled and curled his fingers, very deliberately directing his attention to his prostate. 

"Oh shit, oh! Roggie..." Freddie whined, one hand tangled in Roger's hair, rocking his hips up to meet his mouth. "Ohgodyes, oh god... ahh..." 

He was pretty sure Roger had three fingers inside him now, relentlessly dragging them over his sweet spot every time he thrust them inside. Meanwhile, Freddie was rock hard in Roger's mouth and slowly losing his mind. He really wasn't sure if he could come again so soon, but the prickling, aching heat building in the pit of his stomach was so blissfully intense it made tears well up in his eyes. It wasn't long before he was a writhing, trembling mess, and _fuck_! Fucking hell, he was actually close again. 

Roger pulled off, smirking up at him. "You gonna come?" 

"Mm-hnghh..." Freddie was biting his knuckles, well past the ability to form words. He caught his breath for all of two seconds as Roger pulled his hand away and knelt up on the sofa, before he felt the other man's cock nudge his hole, pushing inside in one slow thrust.  
Freddie made a noise somewhere between a moan and a sob, throwing his head back, nails digging into the sofa cushions. 

Roger hoisted Freddie's legs up over his arms and grabbed on to his thighs for leverage. As he set a fast pace, pounding into him hard and deep, his hoarse moans soon joining the breathless, desperate noises Freddie was making. At this angle, his cock was hitting Freddie's prostate with almost every thrust. 

Holy shit. _Holy fucking shit_. 

Freddie was sobbing, fingers wrapped around the head of his dick tightly, moving erratically, while Roger drove himself into him again and again. The world ceased to exist. For several ecstatic moments, Freddie was sure that nothing was real anymore but this. Them. All-consuming agonising delight. He didn't _want_ anything else to exist. 

The second time around his orgasm swallowed him up slowly like quicksand, until he could barely breathe, crying out and quite possibly actually _crying_ as he threw his head against the armrest with a dull thud.

Roger tipped over the edge seconds later, fingers digging into Freddie's thighs hard enough to bruise, coming inside him in several deep thrusts and a long, drawn-out gutteral sound of pure delight. 

"Fuck!" he gasped, and released Freddie's legs before he slowly collapsed on top of him. "Holy fuck, I'm... I can't..." 

They wrapped their arms around each other, covered in sweat, hearts racing wildly and gasping for breath. 

"Good morning," Freddie uttered after a while, followed by a soft chuckle. He felt like laughing. He felt positively delirious. 

Roger snorted quietly and lifted his head out of the crook of Freddie's neck, a lopsided smile on his face.

"And a good fucking morning to you, too." he murmured, and pressed a kiss to Freddie's lips. 

It took them a solid twenty minutes to get off the couch, and longer still to drag themselves to the shower. 

Freddie was starving by the time he finally bit into a lovely, buttery piece of toast with jam, a fresh cup of tea in his other hand and his feet on top of Roger's lap. 

"Lovely weather," he sighed, looking at the clear, sunny sky outside the window. 

"Yeah," Roger craned his neck and squinted, following his gaze. His fingers lazily stroked Freddie's foot. "Shame we won't be leaving the house today." 

Freddie licked a bit of jam off his fingertip and flexed his toes, pulling his top lip over his teeth. Hiding a grin. "Shame, indeed." 

They ate in comfortable silence for a while, listening to the clock ticking. The birds outside. The cats meowing upstairs. 

"How much time did you say we have?" Roger asked quietly, his hand resting on Freddie's foot, one finger rhythmically tapping against it. 

Freddie looked down into his nearly empty cup of tea. Swirled it around. "Her train gets in at seven thirty. She'll be back by eight, I'm sure." 

"Okay," Roger nodded, glancing up at him for a moment. Freddie didn't meet his eyes, willing him not to ask any more questions. Not now, not today. Willing him to change the subject to something light-hearted and just enjoy this time they had together. Anything, just as long as he didn't ask him any more questions right now which he did not know the answer to.

Roger didn't. 

\- - -

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [that sofa scene](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21368803) by [nastally](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nastally/pseuds/nastally)


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